"SEKI SAN, have you got a big enderlope?" June asked the question from
the door-step where he was sitting with his chin in his hand and a very
worried look in his face.
It was two days after his visit to Monsieur and the big letter was still
buttoned in his blouse. He had started to mail it as soon as he reached
home, but just as he was ready to drop it in the box, he discovered that
every "s" turned the wrong way! It was a dreadful blow to his pride, for
the rest of the address was quite imposing with big flourishing capitals
that stood like generals over the small letters, and dots that would
have surely put out all the "i's" had they fallen on them. He never
could send Monsieur's letter with the "s's" looking backward, he must
try to set them straight again.
So, very carelessly, in order not to excite suspicion, he asked Seki for
pen and ink. He had written many letters to his mother and father, but
always in pencil, and Seki hesitated about giving him ink.
She said: "Our ink not like your American ink, live and quick as water,
it hard like paint. We not use pen, but brush like which you write
pictures. I sink it more better you use pencil."
But June insisted and when he gained his point, he carried the small box
into the garden and took out his letter. The jar containing his goldfish
was close by, so he dipped his stick of paint into the water and rubbed
it vigorously on the paint box. At the last moment just as his brush was
poised in the air, he had a moment of misgiving, "maybe 's's' do turn
that way!" he said, but the brush full of paint was a temptation not to
be resisted, so he took each little "s" by its tail and turned it inside
out. The paper was soft and thin and took the ink like blotting paper.
June watched with dismay as the lines spread into ugly blots, and when
he tried to make the letters plainer he only made the blots bigger until
they all seemed to join hands and go dancing over the envelope in
fiendish glee at his discomfort.
For two days he had tried to think of a way out of the difficulty but
before he could find one he would get interested in something else and
forget about the letter. It was only when it felt stiff inside of his
blouse that he remembered, and then he would stop playing and try again
to solve the problem. At last in desperation he appealed to Seki San for
an envelope.
"It is not so much big," she said, bringing out a long narrow envelope
and a roll of paper. "Why you want to write such big letter to your
mother? She coming home soon!"
"It isn't big enough," said June fretfully, then an idea struck him.
"Seki, I want to go see Monsieur to-day."
Seki San sat down on the step beside him and shook her head positively:
"No, no," she said, "not to-day, nor to-morrow, nor any day. He is not a
good man, I made mistakes in letting you go."
"He _is_ a good man!" cried June indignantly, "he told me stories, and
gave me lots of things."
"I tell you 'bout him, June," said Seki San. "One time Monsieur very
skilful smart man in Tokyo. He write pictures of the forts and show the
Japanese how to find coast in time of war. He know more plenty than
anybody about the coast and the mines. Then he is not behave right, and
get sent out of the service, and he get sick in the hands so he can make
no more maps, and he come down here and live all alone by himself. That
was long time ago, but yesterday a high up messenger come from Tokyo,
and asked for Monsieur Carre. The Emperor have desire to buy his old
maps and reports, and get his help in making new plans. When the
messenger come, they say Monsieur fall back on the bed very white and
afraid, and say he will not give up the papers. Then messenger say maybe
he has sold his papers to a foreign country and he get very much angry,
and say if Monsieur Carre do not give the papers in twenty-four hours,
he will have him arrested and take him to Tokyo. Still Monsieur keep the
tight lips, and a guard is waiting outside his house."
With troubled eyes, June listened to every word. "_Did_ he sell the
papers, Seki?" he asked anxiously.
"He will not say," said Seki, "they say he will not say, but it was a
bad, wicked act if he sold our secrets, and he may die for it!"
June stirred restlessly, and the packet in his blouse caught in his
belt. He put up his hand to straighten it, and as he did so, a startled
look of inquiry passed over his face. Could those papers in the long
envelope have anything to do with Monsieur's present trouble? Why had
Monsieur not wanted him to tell? Had his mistake about the "s's"
anything to do with it all? The secret, which at first had seemed such a
mysterious and delightful possession, suddenly grew into a great and
terrible burden that he longed to cast at Seki's feet and ask her to
share.
But the thought of telling what he knew never crossed his mind. He had
given his word, and he felt that to break it would be to forfeit forever
his chance of becoming a soldier. But something must be done, he must go
to Monsieur and tell him the truth at once.
"Seki," he said persuasively, "Monsieur is sick in bed, don't you think
it would be nice for me to take him a little cake?"
"You can not ever go there any more," repeated Seki San positively. "I
did a mistakes in letting you go."
In vain June pleaded, every argument that he could think of he brought
to bear, but Seki was firm. By and by he began to cry, at first softly,
begging between the sobs, then when he got angry he cried very loud and
declared over and over that he would go.
Seki San was amazed at his naughtiness. It was the first time since his
mother left that she had known him to be disobedient. When persuasion
and coaxing proved in vain, she carried him into the house and carefully
closing the paper screens left him alone. Here he lay on the floor and
cried louder than ever. Seki San and her mother and the old man next
door stood on the outside and peeped through the cracks, gravely
discussing the situation. Even Tomi sniffed uneasily, and gave sharp,
unhappy barks.
[Illustration: "They peeped through the cracks, gravely discussing the
situation."]
After ever and ever so long the cries grew fainter and gradually ceased,
and Seki peeping around the screen whispered to the others to be very
still as he was going to sleep.
June lay quiet on his face, but he was not asleep. Once in a while he
opened his eyes a very little and peeped out, then he closed them
quickly and listened. By and by he heard Seki go back to her work, and
the old man next door hobble across the garden. Inch by inch June
crawled over the mats until he reached the screen, which he carefully
slid back. After waiting for a few breathless minutes, he reached out
and got his shoes from the door-step and put them on. Back of the house
he could hear Seki singing at her work, and not six feet away Tomi lay
snoozing in the sun. Softly and cautiously he slipped out of the house,
across the strip of a garden where all the leaves seemed to be shaking
their heads at him, through a narrow passageway, then out of the gate
that divided the little world he knew from the vast unknown world that
lay beyond.